


For A Few Good Men

by deervsheadlights



Series: deer's bits and pieces [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M, Self-Sacrifice, Steve "We Don't Trade Lives" Rogers, except when it's his own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 05:22:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20540786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deervsheadlights/pseuds/deervsheadlights
Summary: The future doesn't need Steve Rogers.





	For A Few Good Men

**Author's Note:**

> look, someone might've done (something like) this already, but i've had this stuck in my head for ages and couldn't resist. also, i whipped this fic up in like five hours and that's a record in my book. pathetic, i know! but here goes.
> 
> no beta, all mistakes are mine, lmk if you find anything!
> 
> [amigo the devil - for a few good men](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ke-Cm2FboEs)

When Steve sees it, he thinks he's dreaming. Knocked unconscious, hallucinating. Dead, maybe.

The flesh wound in his leg is still throbbing, a consistent burn, not bleeding but not yet healed. There's an ache between his ribs and in his jaw and shoulder, proof of the war and the authenticity of it. This is happening. It's real, it's happening, it's _ ending._

In an ironic twist of fate, Thanos' armies disintegrate, the ugly hounds and beasts with blood tainting their chaps turning to dust one by one. Steve breath catches as he comes to a standstill in the midst of death and destruction. He believes, for the first time in a long time, in a just universe again. It's a freeing feeling.

The sounds of battle fade with their enemy, screams and shouts and metal against metal dying as they do. Steve looks around him, jovial, _ ecstatic _as the reality of their victory takes hold of him. There's a relieved, triumphant laugh clawing up his throat, threatening to spill as he watches the last of the fighting cease. Then, he turns, and his gaze catches on something that makes him still.

When Steve sees it, he knows he isn't dreaming. Only reality has the potential to this kind of cruelty, to take and ruin without hesitation. 

Victory comes with a price, as all things in life do. The universe wants for a tribute, and Tony Stark is the man who once again readily, _ willingly _ lies down on the sacrificial altar to cut his chest open and give his bleeding heart to the world.

The smile on his lips drops, dead and gone, and the laughter in his throat threatens to choke him. Steve thinks he might have forgotten how to breathe. He can only stare, transfixed and unmoving, as Tony's beaten and battered form comes to rest behind a large piece of rubble like a dying animal slinking away into a dark corner to breathe its last breath. 

Steve isn't the only one who's taken notice. The Parker kid comes running moments later, his face a colorful mixture of disbelief and dark apprehension as he passes Steve. More and more heroes begin to crowd closer upon realizing the cause for the battle's abrupt end. Their quiet voices are a blur in Steve's ears, the only thing he can make out his own heartbeat reverberating in his head. _ Ba-dum, _it goes, rapid and distressed as it drowns out everything in his vicinity like having wrapped him in a cocoon of cotton candy.

Tony's closest family has gathered around him by now, Pepper leaning close and speaking quiet words, her face full of grief but as controlled as can be. A soft-spoken goodbye for a man on the brink between this world and the next. _ He isn't gone yet, _ Steve realizes, pulse spiking. _ I need to--_

Steve doesn't know what he needs. A _ goodbye, _ a _ I'm sorry I failed you, _ a _ I wish we had more time. _A miracle that'll make it all undone, maybe. With a start, he moves closer, his legs working on their own. Thor is already there, a few feet in distance between him and the three people kneeling around Tony -- Pepper, Rhodey, the kid -- and only when Steve finds himself next to the demi-god does he stop. 

From up close, the scene is different than from afar. Tony is silent and his eyes are empty, gaze fixed onto an irrelevant point far in the distance. Steve would've thought him dead if not for his ragged breathing, the sound itself screaming of agony. Pepper's words are consoling, reassuring him in those last moments to give him the peace Tony hasn't allowed himself all his life.

Despite the pain in her eyes, her words aren't full of pleas and regrets. Steve realizes the things he meant to say are _ selfish. _ He'd keep Tony from going in peace just because he needs to squeeze in another _ I'm sorry, _even after the man has long forgiven him. It's a discomforting lesson in self-reflection. 

Steve keeps to the back. In any case, he doesn't believe he belongs there, between those people Tony considered family. He isn't sure what Tony considered him; not that, Steve is sure. 

Tony stares and stares, wordless, quick wit and brilliance gone. And then, with a last flicker of light in his eyes and his chest, his life is gone too.

Somebody sobs. It's Pepper, her body shaking as her head falls to her chest after she's kissed Tony's temple for a last time. When his legs buckle and he sinks to his knees, Steve understand it's not just her grief he's heard. His vision blurs through a veil of tears and his first inhale in what must have been minutes of holding his breath is an ugly, choked sob that shakes him in his core. 

Distantly, he notices Thor getting on one knee next to him, but it's a display of respect rather than an involuntary movement. He's sure if he were to look around him, there would be others joining in too, but everything Steve sees is Tony Stark's lifeless body, burned and blistered so as to always remind of the endurance his sacrifice required.

_ We lost, _ Steve recalls telling him, moments after he'd helped a too-thin but alive Tony off the spaceship. _ We. _

Nobody told them Tony would be the one to pay for their collective failure, in the end.

It takes a long time for him to run out of tears, and even longer to come to his senses enough to wipe them away, quick and rough. Steve doesn't have the presence of mind to feel self-conscious about this display of vulnerability. Even if he did, he doesn't think he could be bothered to care. 

Nobody has moved yet, but it's a minute later when Rhodes suddenly stands and exchanges a few hushed words with Pepper, tear tracks on his face but his lips a thin, determined line. She nods in response to whatever he's suggested, and then the man turns to Tony's body and picks his best friend up with ease, as gentle as can be. 

Steve, suddenly aware of how in the way he is, forces himself back onto his feet. He's still not entirely steady, his head light and his chest hurting, but he steps aside when the others pass, following Rhodey as he walks and carries Tony through the rows of heroes still on one knee to honor the fallen Avenger.

Steve stays behind, among rubble and dust, and the grief turns into anger and frustration. He holds back a scream, his fingers digging sharply into his gloves instead.

This isn't how it's supposed to end. 

* * *

Somebody, Steve isn't sure who, makes arrangements. 

Since Thanos left the compound nothing but a hole in the ground, the Avengers temporarily relocate to an office complex somewhere off Long Island. The space is bleak and the opposite of optimal for their use, but it'll have to do. 

Hell, it's a wonder they even got anybody on the phone. With half of humanity returning through the snap of a finger, you'd think chaos would ensue in a similar way it did when they disappeared. Not that it isn't chaotic, but it seems not everyone is so out of their mind with joy to let work be for a day or two. 

The core team of the Avengers gather in the lobby of the office space soon enough, minus Doctor Strange and King T'challa with their people. There's the attempt of a discussion on how to assist the public and countries of the world with further rebuilding efforts, but nobody appears entirely focused on the task at hand. They still have something else to deal with, and no matter how much Steve even dreads to think of it -- it has to be done.

Rhodes has exchanged the War Machine suit for casual wear and is now leaning against the wall on the other end of the room, barely engaging in conversation and silently staring off into one corner more often than not. His eyes are red-rimmed and his jaw clenched tight, and it seems to take everything in his power to not leave the room immediately when Tony's name falls. Steve understands.

The man must've felt Steve's gaze on him, because he looks up almost moments after. "I'll do it," Steve announces, careful yet determined, but then thinks better of it. "If you'll let me."

To his surprise, Rhodey only hesitates for the better part of ten seconds before he answers, "Alright, Steve," and that's that. 

Next to him, Bucky suddenly steps forward, eyes clouded with an emotion Steve can't read. "I'd like to help," he says, quietly, and Steve isn't sure whether he's doing it for him, Rhodes or Tony, but he has an inkling it might be all of them. When the man nods in approval, Carol joins in as well.

It's decided that three of them should be enough to get the job done quickly without getting in each other's way, and so with a last moment of heavy silence, they leave the room. 

Tony's body has been laid out on a table in one of the smaller offices, suit and stones and all. 

They've closed his eyes. It would've been peaceful if not for the sight of his face, deathly pale on its left and scorched a reddish black on his right. Steve promised himself not to look, but now that he's here he can't bear to treat this like it means nothing, like he hasn't been in love with this man for the better part of his time in the 21st century. 

Steve swallows around the lump of tears in his throat and _ looks. _At the crusted blood sticking to the corner of his mouth, at the long eyelashes brushing his cheeks and the lack of them on the damaged side of his face, at the gray in his hair and the faded laugh lines around his eyes.

It's not right.

A hand on his bicep startles Steve, and he whips around to come face to face with Bucky, who squeezes his arm in silent support and says _ Come on Stevie, let's get this over with, _with nothing but the look in his eyes and a twitch of his chin. 

Steve nods, almost on command. On the other side of the table, Carol has started removing bits of armor with brute strength and others with the laser tool implemented in her suit. She works methodically, but there's a grim twist to her lips and a tick to her jaw that betrays the fact she's no more unaffected by this than any of them.

It's strange that Tony wouldn't build a failsafe into this suit like he's done with so many others. In case of emergency, he's always had multiple alternative energy sources ready for activation should the main arc reactor be damaged. Clearly, this one's been built for speed and maneuverability and therefore, protection and armor plating had to take a step back in favor of making the suit more lightweight, but something still rubs him wrong about this.

Steve tries not to listen to the voice in his head that tells him Tony stripped the armor of possible life-saving functions because he never expected to make it out alive in the first place.

When he's pried the plates from Tony's neck, he removes the pieces from his arm bit by bit. The metal is singed and the shine of red and gold gone; Steve cuts his fingers more times than one as he hurries through the process. He wants to get them off quick as possible, like the moment the ugly blackened layer over Tony's skin is gone the memory will disappear as well.

Steve's down to his forearm when it gets harder and harder to bend the pieces backward and rip them off. When one comes off with a gross crunch, Steve realizes why. The material sticks to Tony's arm, the parts that were partially melted have eaten into his skin and with every plate he removes another patch of skin comes off as well.

A wave of nausea is rolling in his gut, but Steve doesn't let it overcome him. With a deep breath, he clenches his teeth and keeps going. 

The closer he gets to the glove that accommodates the infinity stones, the more restless he gets. They're emitting a steady, dim glow, all in their respective places where Tony first put them. It's not that he's in awe of their power -- no, not that. He's far past that. He's _ angry._ A snap of his fingers, a world of pain, and Tony was gone. Just like that.

_ Just like that._

When he sees the arrangement of the six stones buried in Tony's armor, Steve realizes what he has to do.

Steve gets very calm, very suddenly. 

They've had these damned stones for hours now, and nobody even _ blinked _when they left them here with Tony's body. Nobody even stopped to think that their means to reverse this are right here at their disposal. Maybe--nobody dared to bring it up. Maybe they thought it best to not play with powers beyond their comprehension, and, well. Steve can get behind that. It is reasonable. 

But to think that Tony doesn't _ have _to be here, dead and entirely broken-- 

Steve swallows, his throat so tight he almost chokes on it. His eyes sting relentlessly like he's about to cry again, but the tears won't come. The other two haven't noticed yet that he's stopped his work, both occupied with the suit's lower half, legs and boots. 

Very slowly, Steve takes the last pieces apart until he can pull the glove off with one brutal, swift motion. He tries hard not to look at the skin he's ripped off with it, the exposed patches of flesh not bleeding but reddening instead. It's difficult to be completely unafraid of what he's about to do when he's right here to see how the stones butchered Tony, but he has already decided.

Steve Rogers is expendable, but the future needs Tony Stark. 

"Steve?" 

Bucky. His voice is guarded, not betraying a thing, but when Steve's head snaps up, his eyes are dark with a sense of foreboding. He's got a good guess of what's on Steve's mind, but is hesitant enough not to move before getting a definite confirmation. 

Steve's fingers curl around the glove, painfully digging into the metal. When he looks at Bucky, he sees him in a future with Sam, laughing and bickering and _ loving, _and knows they're alright. They'll miss their friend Steve once in a while, but they cope and heal, together.

He thinks of Pepper and her wistful smile, telling her husband to rest and not worry even as tears fall down her face. Thinks of Rhodey, unable to look in his best friend's dead eyes as his last breath left him. Thinks of little Morgan, who will have nothing but stories and history books to remember her father as she grows up.

Steve breathes deep. 

"I'm sorry, Buck," he says, his voice a rasp. End of the line.

When he puts the glove on, broken pieces of metal dig into his skin and flesh, but the pain is nothing compared to the feeling of pure, concentrated agony setting his every nerve-ending on fire as soon as he's fit the gauntlet snug over his hand. 

Strangely, in this moment of soul-crushing anguish, everything he can think of is, _ I never heard Tony scream. _

He's sure he'd been able to distinguish Tony's voice in the midst of battle. If he'd heard, he wouldn't have hesitated for an instant; he'd have done everything in his power to reach the man in time, share the burden of sacrifice. Maybe they could've had their happily ever after, together but apart. 

Steve shakes the thought. Their chance of _ together _is long gone. Everything he can hope to do is make things right, one last time.

There's no time to be wasted, Steve knows that. Carol has a spark in her eyes that tells him she'll pounce at him in the next five seconds, and Bucky is already on the move, only a few feet separating them. 

He brings his hand up. The pain increases exponentially the further his fingers move into position for the snap; Steve braces himself against the wall behind him when his legs threaten to give out. With a shout of anger, agony and bitter determination, he snaps.

_ Bring Tony back. Bring Tony back. Bring Tony back, alive and unharmed. _

The world turns white.

* * *

Steve comes back to reality quicker and more violently than he'd like.

One moment, there's sweet nothingness. The next, his body is numb and burning all at once, but the fire is part of him now, hot and lethal though it runs through his veins. He can distantly sense a hard, cold surface beneath him. There's voices, loud but far away, fuelling the sharp ringing in his ears.

The next sensation comes in form of hands on his face and neck, gentle but insistent. Whoever is touching him taps his cheek, once, twice, and then harder a third time. It's unbearable. Even the thought of opening his eyes makes him groan with pain, yet this person seems determined to make him look into their eyes as he dies. 

Steve was never any good at saying no_. _

The light is bright and blinding, and all he can make out is the outline of a person shielding him against the worst of it as they kneel above him. He blinks slowly, the process of moving his eyelids a difficult one, but with time, the picture of the person in front of him sharpens.

Then, his tired, wounded heart seems to leap out of his ribcage.

When Steve sees him, he knows it was worth it.

The burns are gone, his smile brittle and his bright doe eyes wide in disbelief and swimming with tears. Steve would huff an incredulous laughter if he could, but everything he manages is a strained exhale. Tony shushes him softly, palms of his hands tender as they cradle his face, fingers stroking over the high of his cheekbones and the cut of his jaw. 

"Don't you fucking dare die on me, Steve," he says suddenly, the words spoken gently despite his language. His voice is almost inaudible to Steve, and still even the hint of it seems to soothe all his pains.

There's the flurry of movement all around them, people shouting and running, yet Steve can only drink in the sight of Tony, alive and breathing as if he's never not been. It's okay, like this. _ There's worse ways to go, _Steve thinks, lips twitching upward in attempt of a smile.

Tony smiles back, sad but with a heated glint in his eyes that's very telling of what he thinks of Steve's sudden bout of self-sacrifice. _ You know that's my job, _Steve can almost hear him say, the voice in his head teasing and making light of the situation like only Tony could.

Steve is glad he's gotten the last say, this time around.

When he closes his eyes, he does it in peace.

He dreams of Tony.

**Author's Note:**

> comments & kudos make my day!


End file.
